


A Report from Wycome

by Farashe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farashe/pseuds/Farashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisition receives a report from the forces sent to Wycome. Inquisitor Myrlana Lavellan meant only to protect her clan, but when she finds out she's failed, she pushes her advisers and her lover away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Report from Wycome

“And you’re sure there hasn’t been a mistake?” The Inquisitor’s voice was quiet and calm, but her voice broke on the last word, betraying the emotions below the surface.

“No, Inquisitor. The reports were clear.”

Myrlana’s hands clenched into fists, and her body began to tremble. Yet her face remained a mask of eerie calm.

“Inquisitor, I’m--” Leliana began.

The Inquisitor’s head snapped up and fire flared in her eyes breaking the calm mask. Anguish was writ across that face now. “You’re what?” she snarled at her spymaster. “You’re _sorry_?” She grabbed a token from the table and hurled it against the wall. “You’re sorry that my people are _dead_ , is that it? Well, I do not accept your apology or your sympathy. I don’t accept _any_ of it!” She was screaming now. They had never seen her lose control like this. Even in the heat of battle her rage was leashed, a beast she had tamed with iron discipline. But there was no sign of discipline now, just the fury of a thunderstorm.

“I trusted you!” she raged, glaring at each of them in turn. She looked at Cullen last of all, and her eyes were accusing. “All of you! You told me you could protect them! You told me my clan would be safe! That was _my family_! And now they’re dead because you failed, you broke your promise, and they’re all dead.” A tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away angrily then slammed a fist against the tabletop. “This Inquisition isn’t any different is it? You and your blighted Maker. What has He brought to my people except death and pain and betrayal? I suppose you are just continuing that tradition, and I was merely a fool for believing it could be different.”

She turned and began to walk toward the door, tears now streaming from her eyes. Cullen reached out a hand to stop her but froze when she stopped.

“Don’t,” she whispered harshly, refusing to even look at him. “Just leave me be.” She left the war room, slamming the door behind her.

The remaining three people just stared at one another with worry and anguish but without any words to express it. The silence pressed in on Cullen, and he felt the need to do something. The woman he loved was in pain, and he desperately wanted to help, but she had made it clear that his help was the last thing she wanted.

A few moments later, he left the war room as well. If he couldn’t help Myrlana, he would find someone who could.

\---

Cole was lurking in his usual place above the tavern where he could observe. The strange boy was already looking toward Cullen when he came into view. Cullen supposed his ability to sense pain in others had probably alerted the spirit to his approach.

“You’re hurting, but you don’t want help,” he said when Cullen was close. “No, you do want help, but not for you, for her. You think her hurt is your fault so it festers within you as well, you think you failed.”

“I did fail,” Cullen whispered. “I promised to protect her clan, and now they’re dead. And she’s hurting, but there’s nothing I can do. But you can do something, right?”

“I can try.”

Cullen blinked, and the boy was gone.

Oh Maker, he hoped Cole could help her. Part of him marveled at asking for Cole’s help considering what the boy was, but he knew that when it came to Myrlana, old prejudices didn’t matter, only her. If Cole could ease her pain even a little, Cullen would embrace the odd young man with open arms and never again call him demon.

The Commander of the Inquisition left the tavern and walked slowly toward his own office. Once there he sat at his desk and stared despondently at the reports lying there without really seeing them.

How could he have been so wrong? Sending troops to Wycome to protect the Inquisitor’s Dalish clan had seemed like the cautious choice. Leliana had proposed asking them to infiltrate the city, but that had seemed so fraught with risk. Would things have been different if Myrlana had decided to go with the spymaster’s plan? He supposed second guessing now was just an exercise in self-flagellation, but he certainly felt like he deserved the punishment.

Some time later, he didn’t know how long, there was a soft knock at his door.

“Cullen?” The voice was barely audible and there was a tremble in it that Cullen had never heard before.

“Myrlana!” he said as he scrambled for the door. Once opened, he saw the Inquisitor, face stained with tears, looking up at him her expression lost. He didn’t say anything else, he just pulled her into his arms.

He felt a sob rip through her still-trembling body as his arms went about her. Another sob followed the first and then another until his arms were the only thing keeping her upright. Her own hands clawed at the cloth of his mantle and the metal of his armor as if they searched desperately for some purchase to cling to, some anchor for the body experiencing such turmoil. And so Cullen just held her, arms tight around her as she sobbed and cried and wailed.

Slowly the violence of her sobs lessened, her energy spent and her voice raw. She sagged limply against him, and he adjusted his hold so he could lift her one-armed and her head could rest on his shoulder like a child. Even as much shorter than him as she was, she was too tall to hold like that for long so he carefully climbed the ladder one-handed to his loft then lay her down on his bed. Her eyes were closed now, and he thought maybe she’d slipped into sleep due to her extreme emotional exhaustion, but as he got up to blow out the lamps and leave her to rest, she reached a hand out to his.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Just hold me, please?”

He place a hand against her cheek and nodded before unfastening his armor then climbing into the bed beside her and pulling her back into his arms. She pressed her face against his chest and murmured “You’ll stay with me?”

“As long as you want me, Myrlana.”

She sighed. “Cole was right,” she whispered, her voice muffled against him.

“Hmmm?”

She pulled her face away from his chest to look at him. “He was right to send me to you. I’m sorry, Cullen. I know you tried to protect them and that this isn’t your fault, but you blame yourself anyway. But I don’t. I never really did. It just hurts so much.” More tears filled her reddened eyes.

He stroked her back and pressed his forehead to hers. “I know it does, Myrlana, and I am sorry. I know that doesn’t help anything, but I am, Oh Maker, if I could…” He drew a shuddering breath. “But I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

She gave him a trembling smile then nuzzled her face against his chest once more and closed her eyes. “I need you, Cullen. I always do, even when I don’t think so.” Her voice was becoming indistinct as she slipped toward sleep.

“Then I will always be here, my love,” he whispered back.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, I totally got the Inquisitor's clan killed when I played DA:I the first time. Honestly, there should have been _some_ emotional fallout depicted in game, but I guess you can't have everything. Anyway, I wrote my own.
> 
> If you read my epistolary fic [P.S. Mind the Dragons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3766747/chapters/8367703), this would take place between chapters 14 and 15.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


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